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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"Thaddeus of Warsaw"

I can now walk with a stick; and upon my
word, I am heartily tired both of Lady Dundas and her daughters."
Mary expressed similar sentiments; but as the declaration passed her
lips, a sigh almost buried the last word. Go when she would, she must
leave Constantine behind, leave him without an expectation of
beholding him more--without a hope of penetrating the thick cloud
which involved him, and with which he had ever baffled any attempt
she had heard to discover his birth or misfortunes. She wept over
this refinement on delicacy, and "loved him dearer for his mystery."
When the dawn broke next morning, it shone on Miss Beaufort's yet
unclosed eyes. Sleep could find no languid faculty in her head whilst
her heart was agitated with plans for the relief of Thaddeus. The
idea of visiting the coffee-house to which she knew the Misses Dundas
directed their letters, and of asking questions about a young and
handsome man, made her timidity shrink.
"But," exclaimed she, "I am going on an errand which ought not to
spread a blush on the cheek of prudery itself. I am going to impart
alleviation to the sufferings of the noblest creature that ever
walked the earth!" Perhaps there are few persons who, being auditors
of this speech, would have decided quite so candidly on the
superlative by which it was concluded. Mary herself was not wholly
divested of doubt about the issue of her conduct; but conscious that
her motive was pure, she descended to the breakfast-room with a
quieter mind than countenance.


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